


keep buying the stars

by medusacascade22



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Chicago Blackhawks, M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-21
Updated: 2012-10-21
Packaged: 2017-11-16 18:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/542612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusacascade22/pseuds/medusacascade22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuck,” Jonny groans. He props his elbows up on his desk and lets his head fall into his hands. It’s going to be a long fucking year.</p><p>(or, in which Jonathan Toews is Patrick Kane's teacher, and shit gets real.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep buying the stars

**Author's Note:**

> title from marina and the diamond's "buy the stars." alternatively titled, "wanna get my hands in your khaki pants" from ke$ha's "mr. watson."
> 
> disclaimers: patrick is 18 and jonny is 23, so technically, this is legal. but, still, it's a teacher/student relationship, so beware of that. the textbook lines belong to my AP Euro textbook, not me. the mentioned college is completely made up, though one does exist with the same name.
> 
> this has been months in the making and i am extremely proud of myself. many thanks to craze and ginny for their encouragement. <3

 

 

Sharpy is standing in the middle of Jonny’s parking spot because he’s an obnoxious jackass that doesn’t understand the definition of the word, “punctuality,” even though he’s a fucking English teacher. Jonny sees a travel tray of coffee in Sharpy’s hand, and he doesn’t really want it all over his windshield, so he just waits while Sharpy makes obscene gestures for a few minutes instead of honking.

“Welcome to another year of hell,” Sharpy says after he finally moves his ass and lets Jonny park.

Jonny takes a cup from Sharpy’s tray and downs half of it before responding. “You’re an idiot. There could be students wandering around.”

“If any kids are stupid enough to be an hour early on the first day of school, they deserve what they just saw.” Sharpy says while Jonny is getting his briefcase out of the backseat.

“S’pose you’re right,” Jonny sighs. He looks up towards the school, holding up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “I’ve got a weird feeling about this year.”

“Jesus Christ, dude,” Sharpy groans. “Don’t start with your philosophical shit before I’ve finished my coffee.”

 

“Hayes?” Jonny reads out from the roll.

“Here,” says the really tall guy sitting in the back row.

Jonny nods at him and calls the next name. “Kane? Patrick Kane?”

“That’s me,” says the kid next to Hayes. He’s got a mess of blonde curls and blue eyes that Jonny can see from the front of the class. Jonny doesn’t realize that he’s been staring until Patrick winks at him, lazily confident.

Jonny clears his throat quickly to snap himself out of it and reads out the next name. “Keith?”

It’s a guy with long hair and headphones around his neck that raises his hand, but Jonny isn’t looking at him, he’s looking at Patrick. He’s leaning across his desk to talk to Hayes, smiling and oh god, _licking his lips._ And then Patrick is turning back towards the front, looking at Jonny with those fucking eyes, and--

Well, fuck.

By some grace of God, Jonny gets through the rest of the roll. He ends up glancing at Patrick between every few names, and always finds him sitting with his arms crossed and the cockiest grin on his face.

Jonny vows not to look at the kid at all for the rest of the class, yeah, he can do that; he has a fucking Master’s degree for crying out loud. He manages it fine, throwing himself into explaining the syllabus and outlining his expectations for the year.

The bell finally rings and Jonny dismisses the class. He sits behind his desk and buries himself in the few papers that are on it, hoping that he can go unnoticed as the class files out.

“Hey,” a voice says from in front of Jonny, and he knows this can’t end well. He looks up, and yep, of course, there he is, Patrick fucking Kane, in front of Jonny’s desk.

“Can I help you?” Jonny asks, because it’s the first thing that comes to his mind, and speaking seems better than staring blankly.

“Nah, I just wanted to say that I’m really excited for this class. See you tomorrow, Mr. Toews!” Patrick has the fucking audacity to grin as bright as the fucking sun as he speaks. Before Jonny can formulate a response, Patrick is out the door. Jonny can hear him laughing in the hall, a booming sound that makes Jonny want to smile along with him.

“Fuck,” Jonny groans. He props his elbows up on his desk and lets his head fall into his hands. It’s going to be a long fucking year.

 

Jonny gives group work for the rest of the week, because he’s learned in his past two years of teaching that every other teacher likes to start the year off with endless lectures, leaving students with very little attention for Jonny’s class. It works in Jonny’s favor, because he has the chance to get to know the students before deciding how much of a hard-ass he needs to be in order to make them get any work done.

Jonny is more than happy to sit at his desk and pretend to do paperwork, when he’s really watching his students interact with each other. Or, rather, watch Patrick interact.

It’s weird, really. It’s like there’s this weird bubble of attraction around the kid that no one (including Jonny) is immune to. It’s not just Patrick’s friends that flock around him to listen to his latest tale, but the better part of the class. He laughs so loud that the whole class goes quiet just to listen, because they want to be part of it. Jonny doesn’t blame them, because Patrick just has that _look,_ like he’s having fun at all times.

Patrick is obnoxious as fuck, and really any teacher’s worst nightmare, always distracting the class from their work and laughing during lectures. He’s constantly grinning like the cockiest bastard, and when he opens his mouth it’s clear that he is. He’s tiny yet built and constantly throwing himself around, punching at his friends and getting in their space.  No one seems to mind though, probably because Patrick’s friends are so much bigger than him. Patrick’s fists could be compared to gnats by a guy like Duncan Keith.

Jonny does have to start actually teaching eventually, but it turns out that’s even worse. All of Patrick’s intensity is suddenly turned on _him,_ which makes focusing on the colonization of the New World very difficult. Jonny ends up staring at the map of the world at the very back of the class during his lectures so as not to look at Patrick and lose his train of thought in those ridiculously smoldering eyes.

Basically everything about Patrick drives Jonny nuts, in the penis way and the annoying way. Ugh, Jonny doesn’t even _like_ things that can be described as smoldering, what the fuck is this kid doing to him.

 

The first time they touch is when Patrick turns in the first essay of the year, on the similarities and differences of the nations that settled in the New World, and their hands brush together in the transfer. Jonny swears he feels sparks, which he previously thought was just a myth made my fifteen year old girls and romantic comedies.

Jonny’s eyes fly to Patrick’s to see if he felt it too, which are already on him, staring, and he’s grinning before thanking Jonny with a cocky grin and honestly _swaggering_ out of the classroom. Jonny stares after him, jaw hanging embarrassingly loose.

When Jonny gets home that night and starts grading, he can’t help but look forward to Patrick’s paper. He tries not to look at the name until he’s graded the paper, so as not to be biased, but he sort of fails at it and always looks to see if it’s Patrick’s.

When he does get to it, Jonny’s happily surprised, because wow, the kid is actually really smart, and makes a lot of good points and uses information that Jonny hadn’t had time to cover in class, which means that Patrick actually does the reading Jonny assigns but doesn’t expect anyone to actually do. Jonny had sort of assumed that Patrick would be a half-assed student, but that’s clearly not the case, and Jonny is really surprised, and even more fucked than he was before.

He gives Patrick extra credit too, which is all for the fact that Patrick focused on the French settlement in Canada, and not at all to do with his smile.

 

It’s almost like Patrick tries to touch Jonny after that, brushing knuckles when turning in assignments, angling his hand close to Jonny’s on his desk, and accidentally bumping into him in the halls. He’s got that cocky grin on whenever he does it, so Jonny’s pretty sure that Patrick is doing it to be an asshole, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to not fall into a puddle of blush every time.

 

Patrick comes up to Jonny’s desk after class one day in the third week of school, looking like he wants to ask something.

“Yes, Patrick?” Jonny asks, doing his best to keep his voice steady.

“I was wondering if I could spend my free period here. It’s fourth period, right after this class, and well, the library is really boring and the ladies in there are mean.” Patrick rocks between his feet as he says it.

Jonny wants to say no, because spending time alone with Patrick is probably the worst idea ever, and having him there will mean that Jonny won’t be able to get any work done. But Jonny is a total idiot, and somehow the word “yes” comes out of his mouth and he can’t seem to regret it.

“Thanks, Mr. Toews,” Patrick says with a sincere grin. The sight takes Jonny by surprise, used to the cocky one Patrick puts on for his friends. Jonny just nods dumbly as Patrick leaves.

 

Jonny was right, he gets nothing done in those periods, because Patrick keeps forcing him into conversations. The usual topic is about how stupid Patrick thinks Canada is which quickly transitions into a heated hockey debate.

It turns out that hockey sort of makes Patrick open up and talk about himself, but not in the cocky self-important way that he does with his friends, but about his life, his family, his dreams. It amazes Jonny, how mature and honest Patrick can be. He’s so shocked that he finds himself telling Patrick about his own life, even though he really shouldn’t. But honestly, Jonny does a lot of things he shouldn’t do these days.

Patrick tells Jonny that his dad got a new job in Chicago right before high school, so the family had to move from Buffalo. He used to play hockey back home, still does sometimes, but it just isn’t the same without his old friends.

Jonny tells Patrick that he played hockey in college, that it was amazing, but that he didn’t have the balls to go pro.

“I bet you were the best guy on the team,” Patrick responds genuinely. Jonny blushes, shuffles some papers on his desk, and mutters something about the bell.

It’s during those periods that Patrick becomes a real person to Jonny, a person with thoughts and emotions and character, not just another two-dimensional student.

It’s during those periods that Patrick opens himself up to Jonny, getting Jonny to open up even wider and let Patrick in.

It’s during those periods that Jonny really falls for Patrick, head over fucking heels.

 

Jonny somehow manages to get through the first few months of school without doing anything stupid. He has to jack off at least three times a week the second he gets home from work, but he’s okay with that if it keeps him sane.

And then November is smacking Jonny in the face. Jonny fucking hates November. It’s like the second the calendar flips, every single student stops giving a shit about school and starts obsessing over the break (even though that shit is still two months away) and Christmas and the absolute bane of Jonny’s existence, Winter Formal.

Sharpy is one of the coordinators of Winter Formal, and because Sharpy is the worst friend ever, he always ropes Jonny into being a chaperone. That means a night that could be spent on his couch with a six-pack and ESPN, Jonny has to spend watching over his students’ shoes. He so doesn’t get paid enough for this shit.

This year is going to be exponentially worse, though, because of Jonny’s little crush. He frequently has nightmares about watching Patrick dance with some girl in a dress cut down to her navel. Jonny half wishes that it happens, because maybe it’d be the wake-up call Jonny so desperately needs.

It’s that shitty logic that propels him to ask Patrick one day in his free period, “So, are you going to the formal?” Jonny stares at his desk as he says it, knowing that he won’t be able to keep his voice steady if he’s looking at Patrick.

“Yeah, but whatever,” Patrick waves his hand dismissively. He’s sitting a chair right in front of Jonny’s desk, his feet propped up on the corner of it.

“You gonna-- I mean, are you planning on asking anyone?” Jonny asks. He tries to shrug, like it’s no big deal, but it ends up as more of a shiver than anything.

“Nah,” Patrick says, looking down at the notebook that’s lying against his legs. He had been complaining about the latest essay Sharpy assigned before Jonny asked.

“No special lady?” Jonny tries to laugh casually.

“I’ve got my eye on someone, but I’m not going to ask them. Maybe I’ll see them there,” Patrick looks up when he finishes, a sneaky little smile on his face.

Jonny notices the lack of pronoun, but changes the subject back to Sharpy’s essay before he can start blushing.

 

And then it’s the night Jonny’s been dreading all year. Sharpy slid tux ads under Jonny’s door for weeks, but Jonny opted instead for dress pants and a button down. Sharpy can suck it.

When it gets down to it, Sharpy doesn’t really take his job seriously, because he’s offering Jonny his flask the second they get to their allotted station for the night.

“You want?” Sharpy asks, popping the top open.

Jonny should say no, but if he has to be here, he figures he might as well enjoy it as much as possible. He glances around the gym, but the only kids here this early are freshmen who are too busy giggling and pointing at the shitty star decorations, so Jonny just grabs the flask and takes a large sip.

“That’s my boy,” Sharpy laughs as Jonny drinks. It burns a little going down, but in a good way. Jonny hands it back to Sharpy, wipes his mouth, and leans back against the wall next to the punch table.

“Let’s chaperone the fuck out of this dance,” Jonny says. Sharpy burps his agreement.

 

Quietly mocking the behavior and attire of their students with Sharpy is a good distraction, but Jonny can’t deny that he’s got an eye out for Patrick. He expects to see Patrick out there on the floor every time he looks up, grinding on his friends or some dumb shit like that that Jonny can’t believe he likes. Or even worse, slow dancing with some girl (or guy, whatever.)

Sharpy is pointing out some of the over-PG dancing couples, like Keith and Seabrook, (really guys, leave some room for Jesus,) when Jonny sees him.

Patrick is laughing, of course, when is he not. His hair is pushed back and sort of everywhere, the top buttons of his shirt undone. And then Patrick turns from whoever he was laughing with and _fuck_ he locks eyes with Jonny across the floor and Jonny finds himself unable to breathe.

It’s from far away, a hundred people between them, but Jonny sees it perfectly when Patrick smiles and mouths, “ _I see you.”_

Jonny is about to fucking faint, but then Sharpy nudges him and says, “Dude, you alright?”

“What?” Jonny mumbles, tearing his eyes away from Patrick, who’s still fucking _grinning_. “Yeah, yeah, sure. What were we talking about?” Jonny feels like he’s just run a marathon and knows he sounds it too.

Sharpy smirks at him, but just starts talking about how dumb Shaw’s hair looks when it’s all spiked up.

Jonny’s pretty sure his heart is about to explode out of his chest, so he keeps his eyes down as much as possible for his own physical health. He’s able to avoid seeing Patrick again until a while later, when a fast song is on and most of the floor is moshing (which is technically against the rules, but damn if Sharpy and Jonny are going to try and stop them.)

Because he’s hell-bent on absolutely ruining Jonny’s life, Patrick comes up behind Jonny and taps him on the shoulder. Jonny opens his mouth a few times, trying to say something, and coming up with nothing. Patrick just smiles at him and cocks his head down the hall.

It’s just loud and hectic enough that no one, not even Sharpy, notices Jonny slip off with Patrick.

Jonny knows it’s the worst thing he’s ever done, but he doesn’t even try to stop himself from following Patrick down the darkened hallway and into an empty science lab.

Patrick still hasn’t said anything which is really disturbing, because its Patrick, to whom death is preferable to silence.  Jonny can feel his heartbeat in his palms.

Patrick locks the door and the click sounds like a gunshot. And then Patrick is suddenly crowding Jonny against a counter and crushing him in a kiss and Jonny would scream if he could move.

Somehow, by the grace of God, Jonny gains the strength to push Patrick away (after pulling him a tiny bit closer in the process.)

“What—what the fuck, what are you doing!?” Jonny chokes out.

“Come on, man, you know you want this,” Patrick says quietly and he’s so _close_ and all that Jonny can see or feel and _fuck._

“No--, Patrick, this, this is so _wrong,_ I’m your _teacher,”_ Jonny tries to say sternly, but it comes out all breathy and broken.

“But doesn’t it feel so right?” Patrick asks, and well, he has a point. “Look, no one has to find out about this, okay. We both want it and my hormones can only take so much abuse. Really, I’m eighteen, so this shit is legal and everything so fucking hell, just kiss me already.”

So Jonny does what any logical and mature adult would do and pulls Patrick impossibly closer, kissing him with all the strength he has left.

All Jonny can feel is Patrick’s lips against his and Patrick’s skin under his fingers. The only sound that breaks through the chorus of heavy breathing is a faint ba-wump of the bass from the music playing a few universes away.

Patrick ruts against Jonny, because he’s eighteen and that works for him and hell if it isn’t working for Jonny too right now. But by the way Patrick starts moving, Jonny is pretty positive he’s about to come, which would be bad for everyone involved so he pushes Patrick away. Jonny can feel the loss the moment Patrick steps away, and he regrets the movement immediately.

“We… we should get back,” Jonny gasps, breathless. Patrick whines, trying to push back into Jonny’s space. Jonny would let him, but he’s feeling close to the edge himself, and he’s in enough trouble without coming his pants. “Before someone notices,” he continues.

Patrick groans but steps back again, closing his eyes. He chants something about dead puppies and Sidney Crosby before coughing and nodding. He turns to leave the room but not before leaning up and kissing Jonny again, firm and promising.

Jonny counts to one-hundred after the door closes behind Patrick, both to give Patrick time to get back and to calm himself down. His boner is mostly gone by the time he opens the door and heads back to the gym.

“Where’ve you been?” Sharpy asks with a giant smirk when Jonny gets back.

“Oh, had to comfort a student. Poor thing, his crush was out dancing with another guy.” Jonny shrugs, glad that the lights are low enough that Sharpy can’t see his flaming cheeks.

“Hmm, yeah, poor thing,” Sharpy is still smirking, so Jonny avoids his eyes and tries to distract him by dumping the remainder of Sharpy’s flask into a cup of punch.

 

Jonny manages to keep it together for the rest of the dance, begging off about half an hour before it’s supposed to end. Sharpy lets him go, saying that Hossa promised to help clean up later.

The second Jonny locks his door behind him, the freak out starts, because really, what the fuck just happened. He buries his face in his couch cushions for about ten minutes. He wants to hate himself, wants to feel dirty, wrong, evil, but he doesn’t. He feels _happy._

Eventually he peels himself off the couch and into the shower, because really, what’s done is done, and there’s nothing he can do about it now.

And if Jonny jacks off thinking about Patrick’s lips on his and Patrick’s hands grabbing franticly at his waist, well, it’s not like he can really be blamed here, can he.

 

Jonny has no idea what to expect on Monday morning. He considers calling in sick. But, no, he wants to give a test to sixth period next week, so he drags himself out of bed and into work.

The morning seems to fly by in a haze of Winter Formal stories and late homework, and then it’s suddenly Patrick’s class. Jonny hides at his desk while the class files in. He really can’t deal with some awkward greeting right now.

Jonny stares at the map when he lectures again. A few of the kids are falling asleep, which Jonny doesn’t really blame them for, he knows that he’s being pretty boring. He can only pump so much enthusiasm into his voice when he’s freaking out this hard inside. He’s honestly pretty proud that he’s standing up there at all.

The bell rings, but it only brings another question with it. Is Patrick going to stay for his free period today? Jonny’s not sure which he’d rather. He gets back to his desk and bows his head, pretending to look over papers as the class starts to leave.

He knows he should want Patrick to go and make it easier for the both of them to forget about what happened at formal, but he can’t deny that he would mope around for the rest of the day if he didn’t get his alone time with Patrick. Although, really, Jonny knows that he’s not going to forget about formal. He hopes Patrick will though, that Patrick will be able to get over it and move on. Jonny’s okay with living in denial, or at least, he’s convinced himself as much.

Jonny is thinking it over so hard that he doesn’t even realize that the bell rang five minutes ago. He looks up, and yeah, there’s Patrick, sitting in the front row and grinning so huge that there’s no way Jonny can do anything but return it.

“So,” Jonny says lamely, because he can’t sit in silence any longer.

“So,” Patrick echoes.

“We should talk about this,” Jonny sighs. Being a mature adult sure is a drag.

“What is there to talk about?” Patrick asks.

“Uh, well,” Jonny clears his throat. “You kind of mauled me with your face the other night in Mr. Quenneville’s lab.”

Patrick smirks. “You didn’t seem to upset.”

“We shouldn’t have…” Jonny tries to say convincingly, but he can’t make himself mean it, and it’s pretty obvious.

“Quit worrying so much,” Patrick says. “You’re getting crow’s feet,”

Jonny rolls his eyes. He so doesn’t have crow’s feet. “You do know that I could lose my job,”

“Yeah, but you won’t. I’m not dumb enough to get caught.” Patrick’s eyes lock with Jonny’s as he says it.

“Does that mean it’s going to happen again?” Jonny asks before he can stop himself. He’s not sure if he wants to know the answer.

The answer turns out to be Patrick getting out of his desk and closing the space between his and Jonny’s, and then taking Jonny’s face in his hands and kissing him. It’s gentle and soft without being hesitant and all the things that the other night wasn’t. Jonny pushes up into it without meaning to, even though _fuck_ , they’re in his fucking _classroom,_ this is so _wrong._

Jonny is left breathless when Patrick pulls away a little, but it’s only to press his forehead to Jonny’s and pant, “yes.”

And then it’s like the last string inside of Jonny that’s been trying (and ultimately failing) to hold him back snaps.

Jonny knows there’s no going back now, that this has to happen, but really, he knew that the moment Patrick walked into his classroom.

 

Secretly dating a student turns out to be just as difficult as secretly being in love with a student, except that it’s awesome and totally worth it.

Jonny wants to take Patrick out on a first date, because his mother raised him right thank you very much, but that’s not exactly easy. It’s not like they can just get a table for two at the diner down the street, because of course there would be someone from school there to recognize them. Patrick’s senior year schedule doesn’t afford for an hour drive outside of the city, either.

So that’s how their first date ends up being a feast of take-out at Jonny’s place. Jonny isn’t super happy about it, taking a guy home on the first date, but his hands are sort of tied. Patrick basically gives him sex eyes all class long so that Jonny can barely contain himself when the last student leaves for fourth period. But still, all he can do at school is kiss Patrick’s face off, and that’s with the ever-present fear that another teacher will barge into the classroom. If he doesn’t get Patrick to himself, and fast, Jonny is going to go absolutely crazy. He’s only human, after all.

…which is probably why Jonny hardly lets Patrick walk through the front door that evening before grabbing him and pulling him in for a kiss. Patrick laughs against Jonny’s lips but kisses back, wrapping his arms around Jonny’s neck.

“Good evening to you too, Mr. Toews,” Patrick says when they part. Jonny’s dick twitches at the words, because apparently he wasn’t fucked up enough. “Aren’t you going to give me the tour?” Patrick asks.

“No,” Jonny ducks down to suck at Patrick’s neck.

“C’mon, Jonny,” Patrick laughs quietly, pulling away a bit. “We’ve got all night.”

Jonny opens his mouth to protest, but hey, Patrick’s right. They have all night. He can be a mature adult and wait an hour or so.

“Fine,” Jonny sighs. He takes Patrick’s outstretched hand and leads him away from the door and into his living room. “So, this is my house.”

“And you call yourself a grown-up,” Patrick says. “You have more video games than I do.”

“You jealous?”

“Maybe a little,” Patrick shrugs. “I smell food.”

“Of course you do,” Jonny laughs and leads the way into the kitchen. Patrick’s eyes go wide at the site of Jonny’s kitchen table covered in take-out.

“Aw, honey, you cooked for me!” Patrick trills. He spins around to kiss Jonny’s cheek noisily.

“Anything for you,” Jonny pulls a chair out for Patrick, just barely resisting the urge to pull it out from under him. Mature adult, and all.

Well, if Jonny was as mature as he should be, he’d clean up after dinner. But dragging Patrick into his bedroom the second he puts his fork down sounds like a lot more fun.

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be driven strictly by my hormones, right?” Patrick teases as Jonny pulls him down the hallway.

“Do you not want this?” Jonny asks, and shit, Patrick’s right, Jonny really shouldn’t be pushing this. He panics for the three seconds it takes for Patrick to laugh, grab the back of Jonny’s neck, and kiss him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Patrick asks after Jonny pulls away a little to breathe. “I’ve been jacking off thinking about this for weeks,”

“I hope you saved some for me,” Jonny says, shutting his bedroom door behind him. It becomes very clear that Patrick did in fact save some for him when Jonny pushes Patrick onto the bed and climbs on top of him, because Patrick’s boner is pressing into his thigh. Jonny would laugh, but he’s just as hard.

Patrick seems to agree with Jonny’s intent to do more than just making out, if the way he starts tugging on Jonny’s shirt after five minutes of kissing is anything to go by. Jonny gets his knees on either side of Patrick’s legs and starts unbuttoning his shirt, but Patrick pushes his hands away.

“Allow me,” Patrick says. He pops the buttons of Jonny’s shirt open one by one, running the tips of his fingers over Jonny’s chest as he goes. Jonny tries not to shiver and fails not-so-miserably.

Patrick drops Jonny’s shirt over the side of the bed and makes to pull Jonny back down to his mouth, but Jonny stops him. “You too,” Jonny says, tugging at the bottom of Patrick’s shirt. “Might as well get rid of these too,” Jonny gestures to Patrick’s pants.

“I will if you will,” Patrick says, and Jonny’s completely onboard with this deal. He gets off of Patrick so that they can shed the rest of their clothes, and then they’re both in their boxers, and yeah, okay, Patrick definitely doesn’t look eighteen.

Jonny’s about a second away from pouncing on him, but Patrick has other ideas. He gets Jonny on his back with Patrick between his knees.

“Fuck, Patrick,” Jonny says. “You… you don’t have to…”

“Shhhh,” Patrick smiles and leans down to suck a spot into Jonny’s neck right below where his collar hits, thank god.

Jonny’s twenty-three years of life definitely have not prepared him for the sight of Patrick moving down his body, laying kisses along the way. His ass is up in the air, lips red and wet, hair everywhere, and it’s all Jonny can do not to come just looking at him.

And then Patrick is pulling Jonny’s boxer-briefs down and saying, “Is this okay?”

“Fuck yes it’s okay,” Jonny gasps as Patrick’s warm breath hits his dick, which is twitching against his stomach.

“Good,” Patrick grins wide before bowing his head and twirling his tongue around Jonny’s dick until he’s got his whole mouth around the head.

Jonny would swear if he could focus on anything other than Patrick’s mouth. He can’t stop his hips from thrusting up a little, so Patrick holds his hip down with one hand, using the other to stroke the rest of Jonny’s dick. Patrick gets a rhythm going; slow but definitely skilled. Jonny wasn’t expecting skill. Skill is sort of alarming. It’s not like he’s going to complain now though, since speaking in anything more than moans is impossible when his dick is in Patrick’s mouth.

Since he’s been on the edge since Patrick walked into his house, it doesn’t take very long for Jonny to come. He pulls at Patrick’s hair when he’s close, so Patrick pulls off with a loud pop. And, okay, his lips are swollen to the point of obscenity and covered in spit. Jonny comes with a low groan onto his stomach and Patrick’s hand.

“Get up here,” Jonny reaches out for Patrick. He pretty much jumps into Jonny’s arms, kissing him frantically and trying to push his boxers down. Jonny bats Patrick’s hand away and sticks his in, getting a hand around Patrick and stroking roughly.

It takes about four strokes for Patrick to whine into Jonny’s mouth and come between them. He collapses when he’s done, landing more on top of Jonny than next to him, but Jonny doesn’t mind. He tucks his face into Patrick’s hair and rubs a hand over his side, waiting for his labored gasps to return to regular breaths.

“You okay?” Jonny asks quietly.

“Understatement of the century,” Patrick sighs.

“I’m glad,” Jonny says. Now that he’s had a few minutes to think about it, Jonny’s pretty sure that Patrick’s been sucking a lot of dick. The thought makes his stomach churn.

Jonny doesn’t exactly know how to ask Patrick about it, so he settles for, “So, uh, you were really good.”

“Thanks,” Patrick looks up from Jonny’s shoulder to smile at him.

“I mean, _really_ good,” Jonny laughs nervously. “Have you, uh, done that before?”

“Well, no,” Patrick says, pouting a little. “But… I read some stuff, you know.”

“You read some stuff about blowjobs for me?”

“Yeah,” Patrick turns his face into Jonny’s chest, but Jonny can see the blush creeping up his forehead.

“Aww, Patrick, you didn’t have to do that,” Jonny shifts so that he’s front-to-front with Patrick, pulling him in for a makeshift hug.

“Yes I did,” Patrick mumbles into Jonny’s skin. “You’ve done this before and I haven’t, okay. I haven’t done… anything, really, compared to you. I just… want to be good enough for you.”

Jonny pulls back enough that he can look into Patrick’s eyes. “You’re better than good enough,” Jonny says, cupping Patrick’s cheek in his hand. Patrick looks like he’s going to argue, but swallows it down and smiles instead.

And then there’s absolutely nothing for Jonny to do but pull Patrick closer and kiss his smile until they fall asleep tangled up in each other.

 

Sharpy looks at Jonny for about three seconds on Monday morning before declaring, “You got laid!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jonny hides his smile in his coffee cup.

“Yes you do, asshole. You got some this weekend. Who was he?” Sharpy demands. Jonny is saved from further denial by a group of teachers entering the teacher’s lounge and therefore cutting off the conversation.

Jonny’s never been one to brag, and he’s sure as not going to start now. Sharpy can ask all he wants, there’s no way Jonny’s ever going to tell him. Getting to touch Patrick’s dick is totally worth whatever Sharpy throws at him.

 

Winter break is usually a relief for Jonny; hopping on a plane to Winnipeg, eating his mom’s food, and leaving school behind for a week or two. This year, however, isn’t quite that easy. Jonny misses Patrick just thinking about spending a week away from him. He feels pretty pathetic at first, but eventually gives in and accepts it as his life.

Jonny assigns a shitload of reading right before the break, both to make sure that Patrick thinks about him and also because it’s one of the few joys his job affords him, and he’s going to take advantage of it, goddamn it. It totally works against him though, because Patrick starts texting him lines from the chapter the second Jonny’s plane lands in Winnipeg. There’s a reason that Jonny tells his kids to read it; it’s boring as shit and he doesn’t want to read it himself every year and give a lecture.

Jonny is woken by the buzzing of his phone on the morning of the day before Christmas Eve.

_The growth of industry posed enormous challenges for all elements of western society_

Jonny would be annoyed, since he’s been getting similar texts for three days straight, but Patrick is awake at ten AM and doing Jonny’s homework, and such behavior should be rewarded.

 _Thinking abt me bright and early eh?_ Jonny types out.

He considers going back to sleep, but Patrick texts back, _Woke up thinkin abt u bb_ before he can decide.

_Thinking abt me how?_

_thinking abt you as in im still hard_

Jonny’s stomach does some weird flipping thing and he clears his throat to cover it. He gets up and locks his door. His mom stopped coming in to wake him up years ago, but, well, better safe than sorry.

He ditches his sweatpants before responding, just in case his hands will be busy later.

 _May I help u w that?_ Jonny texts back. He shifts around awkwardly while he waits for Patrick to reply, not really knowing what to do with himself.

 _Yes please_ Patrick responds. Jonny stares at the blank screen of his phone for a while. He truly has no clue what he’s supposed to say. Thankfully, Patrick saves him a few seconds later with _r u naked?_

_No but im abt to be. R u?_

_Yea jesus im so fuckin hard_

And then Jonny is too, and suddenly finding words becomes a lot easier. _Touch urself_ Jonny types with one hand, using the other to stroke himself.

_U too_

_Already am_

_Wish I could c u right now_

_Ill be back in a week_

_I kno but I want u now_

_Fuck im close_

_Me 2_

_Think about last time_

Jonny puts his phone down and lies back, taking his own advice. He grips his dick harder, stroking with intent now, and thinks about the night before Jonny’s flight. Patrick had come over and played Xbox with Jonny for a while before pushing Jonny down onto the couch and dry humping him until they both came in their pants.

Jonny comes silently, an old reflex from years of jacking off in his childhood room. He checks his phone before cleaning up, and sees a text from only about a minute ago.

_Fuck jonny_

Jonny smiles, texts back _don’t hurt yourself_ and heads off to take a shower.

 

Later that afternoon, Patrick texts Jonny, _the early consequences of economic transformation were mixed and far-reaching._ Jonny pops a boner immediately.

That’s sure as fuck going to make Jonny’s review lecture interesting.

 

On Christmas Eve after Patrick has claimed to have gone to bed (which is really just code for him doing weird shit with his sisters, but Jonny has learned not to ask questions), Jonny texts him, _I miss you._

When Jonny wakes up, he has _I miss you more_ waiting for him in his inbox. It’s a pretty great Christmas morning.

 

Jonny spends the rest of his time at home staring at his phone and wishing New Year’s Eve Day would come faster. His mom just smiles at him. She assumes that Jonny has a girlfriend waiting for him in Chicago. Jonny doesn’t correct her.

December 31st finally comes, and Jonny can hardly contain his excitement. His fingers drum against his bouncing leg for the entire plane ride. The guy next to Jonny glares at him a lot, but fuck him, Jonny gets to see Patrick tonight for the first time in weeks, he’s allowed to be a little antsy.

Jonny calls Patrick the moment the plane lands, saying “I’m here,” as soon as Patrick picks up.

“On my way,” Patrick says quickly before hanging up.

Jonny only breaks three traffic laws on the way to his house, closing in on four when he sees Patrick’s car parked a few houses away from his. Whatever, stop signs are lame anyways.

He almost forgets to turn his car off in his haste to get out when Jonny pulls into his driveway and sees Patrick casually leaning against the garage door, looking like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“How was your flight?” Patrick asks as Jonny closes the distance between them.

“Long as fuck,” Jonny says, breathless, finally reaching Patrick and pulling him into his arms. Patrick nuzzles even closer, wrapping his arms around Jonny’s back and digging his nails in just a little.

“Missed you,” Patrick mumbles against Jonny’s chest, muffled a bit by Jonny’s shirt.

“Missed you too,” Jonny squeezes Patrick a little more before reluctantly pulling away. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Patrick laughs and lets Jonny pull him into the house. Jonny leaves his suitcase in the car. He’s got more important things to attend to first. Namely, kissing Patrick so hard his knees give out.

They stumble through the house and towards Jonny’s bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. By the time Patrick is pulling Jonny down onto the bed with him, they’re both naked and breathing hard.

Jonny moves from Patrick’s mouth down to his neck, sucking an angry red mark right where his collar hits. It’s risky, but right now there’s nothing Jonny wants more than to mark Patrick as his.

Patrick groans at that and reaches a hand down to grasp their dicks together. It’s not much, but the wait makes it feel like just enough.

“Fuck, Patrick,” Jonny pants, thrusting up into his grip. “Fuck, I wanna blow you so bad,” Patrick moans loudly in response, head tipping forward. Jonny grabs his jaw, lifting his head back up and sealing their mouths together.

Patrick loses his rhythm pretty quickly, turning erratic and hurried. Jonny places his hand over Patrick’s to keep him steady and apparently that works for Patrick because then he’s groaning out Jonny’s name and coming. Jonny follows only a second after, eyes locked on Patrick’s.

They lay there for a while after, coming down from it and trying to catch their breath. When he regains muscle control, Jonny flops onto his back and pulls Patrick into his side.

“How clingy would it be if I told you that I missed you again?” Patrick says, warm breath ghosting over Jonny’s chest.

“Not clingy at all,” Jonny smiles.

“Good, cause _fuck_ , I missed you so fucking much,” Patrick tightens his arm around Jonny’s waist.

“Yeah,” Jonny sighs. He brings a hand up to card through the curls at the back of Patrick’s head. Patrick hums a little and presses back into the touch. “I know, me too.”

“Never go away again,” Patrick says softly, like he’s afraid to.

“I won’t,” Jonny promises.

 

The only times that Jonny and Patrick get up that night is to clean up (because ew) and to get food (because Patrick insists that he is still a growing boy who needs to be fed every three hours.)

They watch one of the standard New Year’s Eve shows all wrapped up in each other. Patrick shushes Jonny when a performer comes on that he claims is the “best singer since ever.” He insists upon singing along, very loudly and out of tune.

It strikes Jonny then that Patrick should be doing this with his friends, like a normal teenager. He shouldn’t be spending his eighteenth New Year’s Eve in his boyfriend’s bed.

Jonny keeps silent for the rest of the performance, because doing anything else would expose his panic, and Patrick absolutely hates when Jonny freaks out about the age thing.

“Patrick,” Jonny says when the boring old dude comes back on to talk about the show’s sponsors. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to Shaw’s party after all? You could still get over there in time to watch the ball drop.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asks, alarmed. He sits up immediately, hurt and panic in his eyes.

“No, no, of course not,” Jonny says, pulling Patrick back down into his arms and stroking his hair. “I never want to get rid of you, dumbass. I thought I’d made that very clear.”

“Then why do you want me to go to Shaw’s party?”

“I want,” Jonny sighs frustrated, rubbing a hand over his face. “I want you to be a teenager and hang out with your friends and go to parties and just be _normal._ I don’t want to keep you from anything.”

“You’re not keeping me from anything,” Patrick rolls his eyes.

“But--”Jonny tries to disagree, but Patrick cuts in.

“No, don’t even. All that teenager shit—the parties and video games and girls and shitty stolen booze, it gets old pretty fucking quick. I’m not missing anything at that party but Shaw getting drunk and attempting to breakdance, which is not something that I ever need to witness again, so yeah, I’d much rather be here with you, thank you very much.” Jonny opens his mouth again, but Patrick slams a hand over it. “If you’re about to ask me if I’m _sure,_ I will squeeze your dick so hard that you won’t be able to come for a month. You understand me?”

Jonny licks the back of Patrick’s hand, but Patrick doesn’t budge. Jonny rolls his eyes and says “I understand,” against his hand.

“I didn’t hear you,” Patrick demands, holding his hand even tighter.

“I understand!” Jonny does his best to shout. Patrick laughs and removes his hand, but Jonny gets a bite in as he pulls it away.

“Fucking vampire,” Patrick accuses, rubbing the spot on his palm where Jonny’s teeth connected with his flesh.

“You’re one to talk,” Jonny says, barely resisting the urge to put Patrick in a headlock. “You’re so pale that you practically glow in the fucking dark.”

“I do not!” Patrick huffs.

“Do too,”

“Well, I guess we just have to wait till it gets dark to find out,” Patrick grins. “I think I recall you wanting to blow me?”

“Hmm, yes, that can probably be arranged,” Jonny laughs. “Shh, the ball is about to drop.”

“The balls dropped like fifteen years ago,” Patrick says, settling back against Jonny’s chest. Jonny purposefully punches him in the arm as he wraps his arms around Patrick’s stomach.

“It’s been a good year,” Jonny says with twenty seconds left.

“Next one will be even better,” Patrick says. Jonny believes him.

They count the last ten seconds of the year down together, and then the ball drops. Patrick turns to face Jonny, cups his face with one hand, and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s soft and gentle and Jonny never wants it to end.

When it does, Patrick leans his forehead against Jonny’s and whispers, “I love you.”

It takes Jonny less than a nanosecond to say, “I love you too.”

Patrick grins large and bright enough to light up the entire room, maybe even the world, and it’s all Jonny can do to pull Patrick back in and fit their mouths together perfectly.

“Happy New Year,” Jonny whispers against Patrick’s mouth. Patrick repeats it back, and it’s the last words they say to each other for the rest of the night.

Jonny doesn’t end up blowing Patrick, but they fall asleep with less than an inch between their lips, which in Jonny’s book is more than enough qualification to make it the best New Year’s Eve he’s ever had.

 

Patrick lets Jonny grade some test papers during a free period on a Monday in early March, mostly because he has a worksheet due next period that he’s procrastinated on. Jonny frowns at him and starts gearing up for a lecture, but Patrick waves him off, saying “senioritis, dude.”

Patrick pulls a chair up next to Jonny’s and spreads his textbooks out, taking up more than half of Jonny’s desk. Jonny frowns at him again, but Patrick grins and hooks their ankles together. And, well, Jonny only needs one hand to grade, so he rests the other one on Patrick’s upper thigh.

They work in a comfortable silence for a while. Jonny doesn’t realize how caught up he is until the squeak of the classroom door opening breaks his concentration.

_Fuck._

Jonny snatches his hand off of Patrick’s thigh so hard that he knocks it painfully against the inside of his desk, and then almost falls over with the attempt to unwind his leg from Patrick’s.

“I…uh, sorry, Mr. Toews,” Shaw says from the door. “I left my notebook in here last period.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Jonny stutters, aware of how red his face is growing.

Patrick seems completely unaffected by the intrusion. He inches away from Jonny’s chair subtly and says, “Hey, Shawzer,”

“Hey, Kaner. What… what are you doing in here?” Shaw asks as he grabs his notebook form under a desk in the back row.

“Free period,” Patrick explains easily. “Mr. Toews is better at homework help than the librarians, so.” He finishes off with a shrug.

“Alright,” Shaw says, heading for the door. “See you later, Kaner. Thanks, Mr. Toews.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jonny says a beat too late, as Shaw is closing the door on his way out. “ _Fuck,”_ he groans, banging his head against the desk.

“Chill out,” Patrick scoots back to Jonny’s side and lays a hand on Jonny’s shoulder. Jonny doesn’t mean to flinch away from the touch, but he does. Patrick’s face falls along with his hand.

“Sorry, sorry,” Jonny rubs a hand across his face. “I didn’t mean to… I just, _fuck._ This is really bad. This is really fucking bad.”

“No it isn’t,” Patrick sighs, clasping his hands together in his lap. “Shaw doesn’t give a shit. And it’s not like he saw anything anyway,”

“He saw enough,” Jonny insists. “But what if it wasn’t Shaw? What if another teacher walked in? Or the principal? What if we were doing something worse than just touching?”

“But we weren’t,”

“But we could’ve been,”

“You’re overreacting,” Patrick rolls his eyes.

“I am not. I am reacting rationally to the severity of the situation.” Jonny crosses his arms. “We have to stop acting couple-y at school.”

“Seriously?” Patrick asks, incredulous. Jonny doesn’t answer, just turns back to his desk and picks up his pen to continue grading. “Are we not even going to talk about this?”

“Not here,” Jonny says.

“Fine, whatever,” Patrick huffs. He pushes his chair off into the corner and moves to sit in a desk in the front row.

Jonny can feel Patrick’s eyes boring into him from across the desk, but he doesn’t look up. His hands are shaking a little and he can’t focus on the paper in front of him, but he keeps staring at it, knowing that meeting Patrick’s eyes will only make him feel guiltier. He didn’t mean to freak out, but this shit is serious, and Jonny isn’t going to jeopardize Patrick’s future just to get his hands on Patrick during school hours.

Jonny succeeds in pretending to ignore Patrick for the rest of the period. Patrick gets up when the bell rings and stands in front of Jonny’s desk for a minute before sighing and walking out, slamming the door behind him. Jonny doesn’t have a chance to react before the door is opening again and his next class filters in.

He doesn’t really know what he’d do, anyway.

 

Jonny stands true to his “no couple-y stuff at school” rule, which means that he and Patrick can’t talk freely until Friday night at Jonny’s house.

Jonny is afraid that Patrick will be mad, maybe not even show up, but Patrick knocks on Jonny’s door at six on the dot and walks straight into Jonny’s arms when he holds them out.

“Sorry,” Jonny mumbles into Patrick’s hair, fisting his hands into Patrick’s shirt. He hasn’t touched Patrick since Monday, and wow, he’s missed Patrick’s more than he realized.

“It’s okay,” Kaner says. “I get it. I’m scared that someone will find out too.”

Jonny pulls away, but only to drag Patrick to the couch and into his lap. He wraps an arm snugly around Patrick’s waist, pulling him as close as physically possible.

“Did Shaw say anything?” Jonny asks.

“No, and I didn’t mention it either,” Kaner says, nuzzling himself into Jonny’s chest. “You’re right, though. We don’t need to do anything at school if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Jonny has mostly gotten used to Patrick’s bursts of maturity, but this one takes him aback. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Patrick shrugs as much as he can while surrounded by Jonny’s body. “It’ll be hard, cause I wanna touch you as much as possible, but I don’t want someone to find out and for you to get fired.” Patrick looks up at Jonny, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You’re irreplaceable. I’d never find another World History teacher with a very obvious bias for Canadian history,” He says, grin widening with every word.

Jonny rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop himself from smiling back. He gets his revenge by reaching for Patrick’s sides and tickling.

It quickly snowballs into an all-out war, hair-pulling and biting included. Jonny ends up on his back with Patrick straddling his hips and holding Jonny’s wrists above his head.

“Say you’re my bitch,” Patrick grins wildly, tightening his grip on Jonny’s wrists.

“Never,” Jonny insists.

Patrick leans over, lips brushing against Jonny’s ear and growls, “Say it or end up with balls bluer than the sky.” He finishes the threat by grinding his hips down against Jonny’s, who can’t help but moan in response.

“Fuck,” Jonny groans. “Fine, I’m your bitch,” He thrusts up against Patrick, already hard in his jeans.

“That’s a good boy,” Patrick laughs. He kisses Jonny sweetly before crawling down Jonny’s body and tugging his jeans down.

Jonny thought Patrick was good at this the first time, but he’s only gotten better since. Patrick’s got a few more tricks up his sleeve now, tricks that get Jonny writhing on the hardwood floor so hard that he almost concusses himself without even noticing.

After Jonny comes and returns the favor, Patrick squishes himself against Jonny’s side, face pushed into his shoulder. Jonny cards a hand through his hair and says, “Thanks, Patrick.”

“No problem,” Patrick smiles against Jonny’s skin. “I enjoyed myself.”

“No, I mean, well, thanks for that too,” Jonny laughs. “But I meant thanks for, you know, understanding… about everything.”

“Oh, right,” Patrick says. “Anytime, Jonny.”

Jonny’s pretty sure that he won’t be able to control himself to keep up with his hands-off rule, but Patrick’s cooperation gets him smiling nonetheless. He hides it immediately by burying his face in Patrick’s hair, but still.

 

Spring break shows up and smacks Jonny in the face because he hasn’t even thought about writing up final exams for his classes, and he’s supposed to turn them in to the department head for approval the day after break ends.

Patrick is going back to Buffalo for the week to see his family and old friends, and he’s excited as fuck about it. Jonny is happy for him, glad that Patrick will get to enjoy it while Jonny is holed up in his dining room, going through his lectures and piecing together five hundred multiple choice questions. He doesn’t even pout all that much when Patrick comes over to say goodbye, but that might be because all they have time for is kissing and promising to text.

 

Patrick gets home to Chicago on Saturday night, and heads straight to Jonny’s house. He walks in through the unlocked back door to find Jonny asleep in a mound of paperwork on his dining room table, complete with a smear of ink across his cheek.

“Jonny,” Patrick flicks a piece of paper off from the back of his neck and shakes Jonny’s shoulder. “Jonny, you alive, babe?”

“No,” Jonny groans, lifting his head up and rubbing at his eyes. “So… many… finals…”

“Oh, honey,” Patrick pouts sympathetically. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Jonny leans most of his weight on Patrick on the way to the bathroom, but Patrick manages. He sits on the corner of Jonny’s bed while Jonny showers, scrubbing his way back into humanity.

He feels a lot better and almost normal when he gets out, which is good. Jonny wraps a towel around his waist before joining Patrick in his bedroom.

“Sorry about that,” Jonny says, smiling a little.

“It’s cool. Did you get it all done?” Patrick asks.

“Pretty much, yeah. I just need to put some final touches on seventh period’s, but it can wait till morning.” Jonny shrugs. “Should I put some boxers on, or…?” Jonny asks, smirking. He crowds into Patrick’s space, pushing him down onto the bed and kissing at his jaw.

“Actually, yeah, you do,” Patrick says, but he’s winding an arm around Jonny’s back as he says it.

“You sure about that?” Jonny asks. He doesn’t give Patrick time to answer, choosing to stick his tongue in Patrick’s mouth instead.

Patrick kisses back for a minute, but pulls back when Jonny starts grinding against his leg. “No, for real, we’re going out. Get off of me and put some clothes on, asshole.”

“You’re the asshole,” Jonny says, biting at Patrick’s ear. He gets up anyway, both because he’s curious as to what _going out_ could possibly entail, and because his ass is getting cold. He takes his sweet time getting dressed though, putting on a show that has Patrick threatening to pull out his wallet and throw dollar bills at Jonny.

“Where are we going?” Jonny asks as he’s buttoning up his shirt.

“That, Mr. Toews, is confidential information,” Patrick grins, leading Jonny out of the house. Jonny knows he should cringe at the name, but his dick jumps a little instead, but whatever, Jonny has accepted how fucked up he is a long time ago.

Patrick insists on driving, even though Jonny feels very unsafe in Patrick’s shitty old pick-up that must be at least five thousand years old. He makes sure he’s as buckled in as possible before letting Patrick shift into drive.

“So, how was your break?” Jonny asks, a little ashamed that he hasn’t yet.

“It was… good,” Patrick smiles, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

“That’s very descriptive,” Jonny mocks.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Patrick says. “I promise,” he holds a pinky out.

“Both hands on the wheel!” Jonny practically screeches. Patrick laughs at him and waves both hands in the air for a second just to fuck with him. Jonny grips the door handle for dear life and tries to remember why he likes this idiot.

Jonny asks where Patrick is taking him at least every five minutes, but Patrick refuses. They’ve been on the road for half an hour when Patrick finally exits the highway towards a small town that Jonny has only heard once or twice while watching the weather forecast.

Patrick pulls into the parking lot of a tiny Italian restaurant that Jonny has never seen before. “No one will be here that we know, don’t worry,” Patrick says when he sees Jonny get his concerned face on.

“You sure?” Jonny asks as he unbuckles and gets out of the car.

Patrick meets Jonny by the front bumper of the truck, and pulls him down for a quick kiss. “Positive,” Patrick says when he pulls away. Jonny can’t help but smile, leaning in to kiss him again.

“C’mon, horndog, we’ve got a reservation,” Patrick shoves him away, but he’s smiling. Jonny groans, wondering if this evening is going to be anything more than an epic tease.

The host seems to know Patrick, clapping him on the back when they walk in and leading them to a table towards the back of the restaurant. It’s small and round and covered in candles, against a wall with ivy crawling up towards the ceiling. It’s basically straight from a cheesy chick flick that Jonny watched one night when he couldn’t sleep.

“Are you pregnant?” Jonny asks after they’ve sat down and gotten their legs thoroughly tangled together under the table.

“Yes,” Patrick says, swirling the straw around in his drink.

“No, but really, what’s going on?” There’s no way Patrick went to all this trouble just for shits and giggles. Something is up, and Jonny is sort of terrified.

“Calm down, bro,” Patrick says. He clears his throat nervously and takes a deep breath. “So, my cousin is on this rec hockey team in Buffalo, right? Well, uh, yeah, I went to a practice with him last week, just messing around and shit, but, like, his coach sort of freaked out and said that I was really awesome, which, duh. But… he called this college scout that he knows? So then the scout came the next day and, well, offered me a spot at Lincoln University?” Patrick finishes with a shrug.

It takes Jonny a second to make his jaw work properly. “Oh my god, Patrick, that’s fucking amazing,” he says. He hopes it comes across as genuine, because Jonny is sort of freaking out big time.

They haven’t talked about life after graduation in the slightest. Jonny can’t imagine his life without Patrick, but is acutely aware that Patrick probably never had Jonny calculated into his big college plans. Jonny’s known that for a while now, but preferred to pretend it wasn’t happening than bring it up and pop the little bubble of perfection they had going.

Apparently Jonny’s tone covered his internal panic attack, because Patrick blushes and looks down at his lap. Jonny is so busy trying to keep the smile on his face that he almost misses it when Patrick says, “Yeah, and like, you could teach there, cause you know basically everything about history ever, and colleges always need super smart sexy professors and stuff… I mean, if you want to, and all, you don’t have to…”

Jonny doesn’t let Patrick finish. He leans over the table and kisses Patrick until he can’t breathe. Whatever, oxygen is overrated.

 

Jonny interviews at the school the next week. He tells the dean that he’s happy to teach any course in History that they need a professor for. The dean’s face lights up at that, and stays that way for the rest of the interview. When it’s over, he shakes Jonny’s hand firmly, and says, “Welcome to the team, Mr. Toews.”

It’s not just Patrick that draws Jonny to the job; it’s that it’s a fucking _college,_ which means that Jonny gets to teach what he wants to teach instead of the stupid textbook shit that the public school system forces him to conform to. Plus, he’ll only have to make one final exam instead of seven.

Jonny takes a detour on the way back to his car. He walks around the campus, imagines Patrick with him there, and can’t keep the smile off of his face.

 

The one thing that Jonny isn’t looking forward to is telling Sharpy. He forces himself to call Sharpy the day after he gets the job, because procrastination will only make it worse.

Sharpy agrees to meet him for a beer at a sports bar downtown. There’s a Hawks game on, so Sharpy is staring at the nearest TV when Jonny says, “So, uh, I got a new job.”

“What? Where?” Sharpy asks, head moving so fast that Jonny’s half concerned that Sharpy will get whiplash.

“Uh,” Jonny stares into his bottle and picks at the label. “Lincoln University,”

Sharpy stays quiet for a moment, which is never a good thing. “Isn’t that where Kane is going?” He finally asks. Jonny goes red immediately and stammers out a few half-formed syllables.

A massive grin spreads across Sharpy’s face. Jonny considers smashing his bottle against his own head. Sharpy smacks Jonny hard on the back and says, “You dirty old man, you,” before exploding into what seems like uncontrollable laughter.

Maybe leaving Sharpy won’t be so hard after all. Fucking assface.

 

When Patrick walks across the stage at graduation, Jonny claps so hard that he’s pretty sure his hands are going to break. Right as Patrick is about to descend the steps from the stage and take his seat, he turns to the teacher’s section and winks. Sharpy punches Jonny in the thigh, but Jonny doesn’t care.

Patrick goes to dinner with his parents after the ceremony, and Sharpy insists upon taking Jonny out for a farewell beer, since Sharpy is going home to Thunder Bay for the summer.

“I’m only going to be an hour away,” Jonny says while Sharpy orders way more alcohol than Jonny intends to consume. “We’ll still hang out, so I really don’t need a farewell.”

“Are you seriously trying to get out of getting wasted with me tonight? Because you should know that it isn’t going to work.”

“I’m not getting _wasted_ ,” Jonny rolls his eyes, but takes the glass that Sharpy hands him. He doesn’t know what’s in it, and doesn’t particularly want to know. “I’ve got plans for… later.”

“I don’t even want to know, man.” Sharpy shakes his head in mock disgust. “But whatever it is, a little booze can’t hurt.” Jonny is about to argue, but then Hossa and Versteeg walk in and Sharpy is too busy performing complicated handshakes with them to listen.

Jonny sticks to his word and doesn’t get wasted, but he definitely has a few less inhibitions when Designated Driver Hossa shoves him into his car. Jonny’s pretty sure he could drive if necessary, but he’d rather not die on the way home, because he and Patrick really do have plans, and Jonny isn’t going to miss out on the world.

When Jonny gets home, Patrick is right there, sitting on his front doorstep and grinning like the sun. Jonny doesn’t even bother with a greeting, just grabs him and kisses him right there, because they can. He’s relatively sure that Hossa drove away already, but even if he hasn’t, Jonny doesn’t care. He doesn’t think that anything could bring him down right now.

“Congratulations,” Jonny says, leaving only millimeters between his lips and Patrick’s.

“Thanks, babe,” Patrick smiles, tugging at Jonny’s belt loops. “You, uh, wanna take this celebration inside?”

“Yeah, yeah, we could do that,” Jonny fumbles in his pocket for the keys. It would probably be easier to find them if he wasn’t touching Patrick with seventy percent of his body, but moving sounds like absolute torture, so whatever, he can take an extra five seconds to get the door open. They have all night, after all.

They take their time undressing. Patrick undoes each button of Jonny’s shirt and kisses the exposed skin. Jonny unhooks Patrick’s belt, winding it around his hand before pulling it out of Patrick’s belt loops.

The urgency goes up a notch once they’re both naked, but there’s still no rush. Jonny has Patrick pinned under him on the bed, grinding lazily against him. Neither of them is getting much relief from the motion, and Jonny is more focused on kissing Patrick as deeply as physically possible.

Patrick gets impatient after a while and thrusts up restlessly, searching for some friction.

“You ready?” Jonny asks quietly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Patrick pants. “I’m ready.”

Jonny kisses Patrick again before reaching into the bedside table to grab a bottle of lube and a condom.

“Are you sure?” Jonny asks, a little line forming between his brows. Patrick wipes it away with his thumb.

“I’m sure,” Patrick tells him. “I want you to fuck me, Jonny.”

Jonny nips at Patrick’s neck as he pulls away. He settles himself between Patrick’s legs and squirts some lube on his fingers. He goes slowly and watches Patrick’s face as he pushes one finger in.

“Fuck,” Patrick moans, eyes squeezing shut.

“You okay? Want me to stop?” Jonny freezes.

“No, no, it’s good, just,” Patrick’s breath comes out all in a rush, stomach muscles quivering with the effort. “Yeah, keep going,”

Jonny kisses the inside of Patrick’s bent knee and pushes his finger in a little deeper. A string of curses falls from Patrick’s mouth, but he’s encouraging, so Jonny keeps going, pushing his finger in and out until Patrick says, “Another, I can take it.”

After Jonny has fucked Patrick with three fingers for a while, Patrick says, “Okay, I’m ready. Get in me.”

Jonny needs no further encouragement to roll on a condom, lube up, and push into Patrick agonizingly slowly. He practically falls forward onto Patrick when he bottoms out, because fuck, Patrick is so fucking tight and hot and _perfect_. Jonny tells him as much, and Patrick chokes out a laugh and says, “fucking move,” reaching a hand around to slap Jonny’s ass and punctuate his words.

Jonny starts moving as gently as possible, still watching Patrick’s face, judging how much he can take. Patrick tangles a hand in Jonny’s hair, tugging and pulling along with Jonny’s thrusts.

“Fuck, feels so fucking good, Jonny, shit, more, fuck,” Patrick gasps, keeping up a stream of positive commentary.

It’s been a while and Patrick feels so fucking good, and Jonny doesn’t think he’s going to last long. He’s about to tell Patrick that, but then Jonny shifts and hits a spot inside Patrick that makes him moan so dirty that Jonny’s toes curl.

“Fuck, fuck, Jonny, I’m gonna,” Patrick reaches wildly for his dick, but Jonny gets there first, stroking erratically. Patrick comes after less than a dozen strokes, clenching around Jonny, and Jonny is only a second behind him.

“Fuck,” Jonny groans, collapsing onto Patrick. He feels empty, but in a good way.

He doesn’t want to move, ever, but Patrick flicks him in the head eventually and tells him to get off. Jonny pulls out, ditches the condom, and grabs a washcloth to clean up a bit.

Once they’re clean and dry and under the covers, Patrick curls up into Jonny’s side, chin propped up on Jonny’s chest.

“I love you,” Patrick says, tracing a pattern into Jonny’s other side with his thumb.

“I love you too,” Jonny smiles. “That was… fun.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Patrick grins. “There are a lot of adjectives I could use, but I think you literally fucked my brains out, because I can’t think of any.”

“What a charmer,” Jonny ruffles Patrick’s hair.

“I can’t believe I graduated today,” Patrick says, quickly changing the subject.  “I can’t wait,” he sighs contentedly.

“For what?” Jonny asks.

“For… everything,”

Jonny doesn’t need to ask for clarification. Everything sums it up pretty nicely.

 

 

And then it’s the first day of Jonny’s first class as a professor. The students trickle in, laptops and coffee cups in hand, and Jonny starts to get nervous.

But then Patrick walks through the door. He sits down in the front row and grins at Jonny and Jonny feels the same thing he felt when Patrick walked into his class a year ago.

Jonny doesn’t even try to keep the smile off his face while he gives his first lecture. He doubts he’ll ever stop smiling. He’ll probably die smiling, and it’ll be all Patrick’s fault.

 

 

~fin

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] keep buying the stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148636) by [AshesandGhost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesandGhost/pseuds/AshesandGhost)




End file.
